A Moment In Time
by LixiPixi
Summary: A kind of abstract oneshot. Angel is asleep, and Collins is left to think to himself. AngelCollins although pretty much all the characters are mentioned.


**Just a bittersweet little oneshot.**

**Enjoy, and reviewers get cookies!**

Collins smiled, twisting a lock of Angel's slick wig around one finger. She didn't wake up. Just kept up a steady rhythm of breathing...like a clock ticking...or a heartbeat. He thought that maybe he could stare at her all day. He would watch her, find something new about her appearance that he hadn't noticed earlier, and laugh to himself, fixing it in his memory to ask her about when she woke up.

He just smiled when he had spotted Mimi's favorite ring on Angel's smallest finger. Mimi would be mad when she would find out that it had been borrowed without her knowledge. But they were always borrowing each others things, and then shouting at each other when they found out, then instantly making up when they had found a piece of gossip that was just too amazing to be ignored. Collins found it amazing about how the two of them never seemed to hold grudges. A cigarette burn right on Mimi's favorite pink jacket. Mimi went mad for a total of five minutes, but then spotted Roger sneaking out of the apartment when she was busy, and was quick to run to Angel to talk about how he was 'totally allergic to any commitment!'.

Collins leant over and picked up a stack of pictures that weren't too far away. He didn't have to move to get them, anyway. He looked through them. Each picture seemed to bring a bigger smile to his face then the last one. He could remember the conversation the preceded and proceeded each picture perfectly. It felt like they had only been takes a few hours ago.

A picture of Mimi kicking her leg up as high as it could go, and then holding it there.

"_I can do that..." Angel had said stuffily, folding her arms. She was stood next to Roger, who was taking the picture. "I just don't want to!"_

"_Do it again!" Roger had said loudly, over the top of Angel's protests._

She had done it again, but Roger had taken the picture too late, so Mimi had just turned into a blur, and they had thrown that picture in the trash, along with countless pictures where Roger's thumb covered the bottom of the picture.

A picture of Maureen sat at some bar, caught in the middle of saying something.

"_He wanted what!?" She had asked, a disgusted look on her face, and throwing her dark, wavy hair over her shoulder. _

"_He wanted..." Mark said, from behind his camera, "...us to tell Alison that he was a good guy."_

_Maureen had laughed in a way that reminded Collins of a dog._

"_I hope you told her that she's married to a CREEP!"_

Collins had to stifle his laugh at that memory. He was worried he would wake Angel. He could never tell exactly how heavily she was sleeping. Sometimes, it would take a lot of poking to get Angel to wake up. Sometimes she would wake up just from sunlight streaming in through the window.

Collins flicked through the next few pictures. They were all picture of Angel and someone else. One of Angel and Mimi curled up together on the couch. One of Angel and Collins standing outside the Life Cafe. One of Angel and Maureen at a bar, lifting their drinks up in the air. In each picture she had the same smile. The kind that makes anyone who looks at it smile too. Almost like it's giving off electricity or some kind of energy. Even just seeing it through the old blurry photograph made Collins smile.

Just as he was thinking it, Angel shifted and mumbled something in her sleep. She showed a tiny shadow of her smile, that appeared and disappeared quickly, so Collins wasn't sure he had even seen it. He went back to twisting a lock of the wig around his finger and flicking through the pictures. A few pictures of Angel with people he didn't know. No doubt some of her other friends. A black and white class picture. Was Angel one of those kids? Collins narrowed his eyes and tried to pick out a familiar face. He spotted Mark and Roger, both wearing shorts and soccer shirts. It was one of their childhood photos, not belonging to Angel.

Were there any childhood pictures of Angel? He had never seen any. But from what little facts he knew about Angel's childhood, he figured it was nothing she had wanted to treasure. Maybe Collins would ask her a little about it when she woke up, after reminding her to give the ring back to Mimi. There was so much about Angel that he didn't know. Could you ever know everything about somebody? Collins thought that Angel was pretty close to knowing everything about him. It was a rare moment when he wasn't being asked about something, or searching for an answer.

She would sit, her legs crossed, asking him things. Collins would walk around, clearing up, doing chores, but talking to her the whole time. She never seemed to fake interest. Angel would laugh at every one of his jokes, give an appropriate 'yeah' or 'aww honey..', never missing a beat. So when she was asleep, the silence was strange and foreign. It took Collins some getting used to, being able think to himself, instead of pouring all of his thoughts out of his mouth.

Angel seemed to be drifting into a proper sleep, so Collins carefully removed her wig, setting it to one side so that she could be more comfortable. It always shocked Collins a little. That sudden transformation. She was suddenly five years younger, less confident, weaker, smaller. She would smile though, and wig or no wig, everyone would know she was Angel.

As she drifted even deeper into sleep, her breathing slowed, seconds spilling out into minutes.

Collins reached over to wrap his arms around her, still amazed at how well she fit into his embrace. Like she belonged there. Collins and Angel. Angel and Collins. Even their names sounded perfect together.

Her breathing eased a little more.

Collins didn't notice, but his mind made him tighten his grip around her.

Slower...slower breaths...

Lighter heartbeats. Collins held her even closer to him, just so he could feel them.

He followed this pattern for a few minutes. He awaited ever shallow breath and every faint heartbeat with anticipation. He didn't notice how it was harder to sense them each time, and how the time between them stretched out longer. He didn't want to notice. He tried to ignore the seconds slipping through his fingers as he waited for Angel to take her next breath. The seconds turned into minutes. The minutes gathered together as a long numb silence. Collins turned to the monitor that stood next to the hospital bed.

A flat line.


End file.
